


Track 8

by PrettyMessedUpSituation (MarcelinesNightosphere)



Series: Moments [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Grand Gestures, Memories, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 23:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10752183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcelinesNightosphere/pseuds/PrettyMessedUpSituation
Summary: Sometimes making something new isn't as grand as giving a piece of yourself.





	Track 8

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the goddamn mix tape. 
> 
> Rebloggable version [ here](http://prettymessedupsituation.tumblr.com/post/160075224818/track-8).

Dean tapped the top of his pen on the table, keeping time with his foot that bounced at a relentless and steady pace. He stared at his notebook that had the names of songs arranged and rearranged and marked out completely. Picking his favorite songs sounded simple until he actually tried to do it.

When it seemed an impossible task, he went through the tapes he kept in the Impala. There were a few Zeppelin tapes already made. He sat in the car and played them, jotting the track names down so he could include them on the inside sleeve where there were none. The third one he picked up was from high school. Dean looked at the plastic case that had his handwriting and smiled, a brief moment of embarrassment over how he had put two x’s on _traxx_. 

“Ah,” he said. “The 90s.” 

He remembered where he was when he made this tape. They were staying with some hunter friends of John’s, and while the men were drinking and Sam was reading in a corner under a lamp, Dean found a stereo in the garage. It had two cassette slots, one of which let you record. The guy had a few tapes and stack of blank cassettes, so Dean went to work. He made five tapes that night, meticulously planning which songs would go on each. He needed to fit Bon Jovi, AC/DC, Aerosmith, and four tapes of Led Zeppelin onto those blank cassettes, two of which wound up being just Zeppelin. 

He loved those tapes. Besides Sam and the car, they were all he had during some of the hardest years of his life. They were the longest lasting possessions he had from his life on the road and were a piece of him that told stories he couldn’t put into words. Survived through accidents and apocalypses alike. He smirked, oddly proud of those damn cassettes in their flimsy plastic covers. He started to write down Track 8, “Good Times Bad Times,” but stopped to listen to the song. 

> _In the days of my youth_  
>  I was told what it was to be a man  
> Now I’ve reached the age  
> I’ve tried to do all those things the best I can  
> No matter how I try  
> I find my way to do the same old jam 

Women. Mistakes. Sounded about right. Then the last lines gave him an ache that could have brought him to his knees.

> _I know what it means to be alone_  
>  I sure do wish I was at home  
> I don’t care what the neighbors say  
> I’m gonna love you each and every day  
> You can feel the beat within my heart  
> Realize, sweet babe, we ain’t ever gonna part 

“Eight years,” he said softly. He cleared his throat and waited for the first beats of the next song. He’d give it to him to listen to in his Lincoln or whenever he had the chance. Maybe it’d mean something to him _,_ he thought.  

It certainly did to Dean. 


End file.
